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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29516745">Blooming Colors</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/INeedSomeCoffee/pseuds/INeedSomeCoffee'>INeedSomeCoffee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:35:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,313</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29516745</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/INeedSomeCoffee/pseuds/INeedSomeCoffee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A 23-year-old runaway wife, who had no idea about how to survive somewhere so far away from Home in a country called London, shares her apartment with A Brashy, Charming, 25-year-old and an Adorable, Sweet, Gay Teen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blooming Colors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is moist everywhere and the roads are dark grey, clean and modern. The towering buildings are sparkling luminously, little lights peeping out of their glassy windows. People are walking around casually, their outfits are normal yet they still carried a sense of fashion in them. Even the small shops on the streets look professional and coordinated to me. And here am I, an uncoordinated girl with clothes that lacks fashion and modesty, at least to me.</p><p><br/>I don't mean that jeans and kurta aren't in fashion, but that just parts me away from the majority. Parting away from a bigger group would provide me with more attention and I don't want that right now. As much I try to stop thinking about myself, it demotivates me more that I am just another unconfident girl in a developed country. This is what I am at my best right now.</p><p><br/>I am scared. I don't want to be here. I want to go home. I sound like a kindergarten kid on my first day at school to my own mind. Isn't that the truth? I never progressed since then. The people around are projected like beasts under professional outfits to me right now. The beautiful rainy weather and the infrastructure with numerous opportunities seem like a threat to my failure of losing them. I should be happy, I am getting another chance to start a life. I am a lucky exception. Not many of them are this privileged. But my mind is swirling in thousands of insecurities and my face is creased unbelievably that I could feel some wrinkles growing on it out of sheer worries. My legs are wobbly and I am carrying a big suitcase of accessories which I am completely unable to drag with my over-consumed body.</p><p><br/>It is hard to praise the beauty of another country when you are unable to praise yourself. You feel like a burden to the place, like an unusual object to stare at, and even though I know people aren't that rude, I could still feel some eyes hovering at my clumsy figure.</p><p><br/>The last thing I am wishing not to go bad about is misunderstanding the accent of the Cab driver while I explain to him the destination.</p><p> </p><p>"Hello, Maa?"</p><p> </p><p>"Tara. Did you reached safely?" I was quite contended after a long time hearing her voice at the nearby Booth. I held the phone unsteadily close to me ears, my fingers fidgeting on the handle. The small booth felt like a shield to hide my discomfort around.</p><p> </p><p>"I reached safely."</p><p> </p><p>"Good. Now listen to me, I've talked to your Father properly and he hasn't yet found your location okay? Don't worry I think he'll forget about it now. But still, be careful since you are an alone girl."</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, Maa." I pressed on my words, feeling tight already. "Everyone is not the same."</p><p> </p><p>"Most of them are." her tone was curt. "The world is cruel, Tara."</p><p> </p><p>"I understand." I don't know why she always thinks that I am naive.</p><p> </p><p>"Did you take any money with you?"</p><p>"I have my jewellery."</p><p>"Good, then. I'm sorry your bank account has been completely blocked, Tara."</p><p> </p><p>"Yes." My voice was barely audible, weak like a loose string.</p><p> </p><p>"Take care, beta."</p><p> </p><p>"You too." And she hung up. I wish she could have talked, but she had her reasons.</p><p> </p><p>It's weird how I didn't want to leave the borders of the booth. I feel safer here than outside. But I know I have to leave soon as there were already a bunch of people waiting outside. I opened the door slowly and let the cold wind hit my face again, tangling in my hairs and giving me soft chills.</p><p>The other person hurried towards the booth shoving me aside as if it was a bathroom, and he was in desperate need of peeing. I shove my hairs behind my ears for the hundredth time and looked around to spot a cab.</p><p> </p><p>Cabs. Roads. Lights. People. Too many people. I feel like an alien.</p><p> </p><p>I am an alien.</p><p> </p><p>My dark skin barely matches with the paleness outside. The snow was white as ever, and so were the people. I was the darkness, and everything was light. I know feeling this was a crime. However, every time I remind my mind to cease such thoughts, it just mocks me back with the tag of truth behind its collar.</p><p>What was I even thinking? Escape wasn't an option. There was no option. I had to escape. I was helpless. If I wouldn't have left, the demons that are seven continents away were ready to gobble my remaining life as well.</p><p>I walked on the footpath with unfocused eyes that flickered at every human randomly crossing with me. It was almost as if my eyes were a blur camera, and the faces were fish-eyed zoom right at my face as they kept passing by. I didn't have it in me to spot a cab on the roads, so I tried booking one from my phone.</p><p>Fortunately, it worked. I didn't even expect that the Cab would even arrive, and it did, instead of at the right time at the exact place.</p><p>"27th, wait, wait, let me check," I took out a tiny paper from my purse, unfolding it as it read the address, "27th avenue street, east valley," I tried to say as clearly as possible to the Driver, and my mouth visibly flexed a breath of relief when he simply nodded.</p><p>London is magnanimous, and not something that I quite pictured. It's not wholly perfect, with the rooftop houses and dull colours, but it's quite a scenery to withhold. For someone like me who has never seen London before, it's definitely beautiful.</p><p>There were times when I was younger and dreamt of coming here as a child. I never really thought of this as a backup plan to escape my home. And now when I am finally here, I don't know what to do. I don't know if I will survive here. I don't know the rules of this place or the minds of these people. And I don't know to want to be an example of worthless thinkers. Maybe If I would have tolerated a little more that was happening in my life, I wouldn't have to run. Maybe if I was just a little more patient, I would still have a home. Now I'm alone. And it's a kind of a relief too, in its own twisted way. I'm alone to cry, and no one will mock me for it now. No one will say that I have too much because now I don't. I don't have anything now and I'm free.</p><p>I'm scared of this freedom.</p><p>If I was trained for all of this, if I was allowed to roam free from the beginning, things would have been different. And I know making excuses was not going to lessen the detriments.</p><p>I hate them. My family and my parents and myself. I hate how I am now. And it will get worse. I don't have anything. The place I called home is behind me and they will cut me down in pieces if I tried to return. There's no going back from here and I don't even know what I'll do here.</p><p>For a moment, returning back and being killed seemed like a better option when I realized the Cab halting at the apartment near me.</p><p>"How much?" I asked, my hand already stammering awkwardly inside my purse, catching onto anything that felt like dollars.</p><p>I gave them their share and gawked at the apartment in front of me.</p><p>It's big, brown and beautiful. I should be grateful. I am grateful. This is where I will live now.</p><p>I just hope I don't bother the lives living inside it though.</p>
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